


(We Are Not) Monsters

by lionessvalenti



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Werepanthers, Werewolf Steve Rogers, Werewolves Turn Into Actual Wolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:53:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23727124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionessvalenti/pseuds/lionessvalenti
Summary: Steve wakes up after his transformation to find he wasn't the only were-creature in the jungle that full moon.
Relationships: Steve Rogers & T'Challa
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23
Collections: Gen Freeform Exchange2020





	(We Are Not) Monsters

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lucifuge5](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucifuge5/gifts).



When Steve woke up, he was naked and cold on the ground, even with the morning sun streaming through the trees. He sat up, disoriented. His senses may have been above those of the average human, but those senses were nothing compared to those of his wolf form. Now, everything looked a little blurry and sounded dull. He would adjust.

He was nowhere near where he had started the night before, but he was used to that. He had no territory of his own, always on the move as he was. Sometimes he would chase his own tail all night, but typically, he wandered. He had run, and he'd hunted, but there were no clear memories of the night, his wolf taking control. It was an unparalleled force.

As it was the first full moon Steve had spent in Wakanda, he wasn't surprised that he'd run.

"Good morning, Captain."

Steve started, and looked up. T'Challa stood over him, resting his foot against a fallen tree. He wore a black t-shirt, baggy black sweatpants, and a pair of Nikes. He looked less royal and more like someone coming home from the gym.

"They send the King out to deal with werewolves?" Steve asked. He brought his hand up to shield his eyes from the sun.

"No, I was in the jungle already. I was tracking you all night."

Steve blinked up at him for a few seconds before the penny dropped. "You're a werewolf, too."

T'Challa smiled. "It's a bit more complicated than that, I'm afraid. Here. I hope my clothes will fit." He tossed Steve a bundle of clothes. "I've already sent word to Sergeant Barnes that I had located you."

"Thank you," Steve replied, in response to both things. He knew Bucky was going to start tracking him if he didn't show up soon. If T'Challa hadn't been following him, Steve would have needed the help, since he had no idea where in the vast jungle he was.

"Get dressed," T'Challa said. "We'll find some breakfast and I'll explain."

The clothes technically fit, but not well. T'Challa was not a small man, but Steve's shoulders were still considerably broader. The white shirt stretched across his chest making the fabric nearly transparent, then was loose around the waist. The black sweatpants were baggy, but had a drawstring, so Steve secured them tightly.

"I'm sorry I don't keep an extra pair of shoes," T'Challa said when Steve joined him. He slung a canvas messenger bag over his shoulder. "I don't know if they would fit anyway."

"As long as we don't come across any pointed rocks or snakes, I'll be all right," Steve replied, just grateful to not be wandering around naked. He'd left his boots at Bucky's when he went to transform anyway. He'd ruined plenty of pairs of shoes and clothes over the years during his transformations, and as far as he could tell his clothes from the night before were gone forever.

Steve glanced up from the ground at T'Challa ahead. "So, you've been at this a while, huh?"

"Not nearly as long as you," T'Challa replied with a chuckle. He looked over his shoulder. "You became a werewolf due to the serum, correct? That was a long time ago."

Steve nodded. Initially, his lycanthropy had once been a well kept secret, but it was one of those things that had come out while he was in the ice. It had been treated like a rumor for a long time, but now he was the world's most famous werewolf. Because of this, he wasn't very welcome in the werewolf community, who liked to keep their business private.

Man out of time. Lone wolf. People liked to put him in boxes. Steve wasn't quite sure where he fit at all anymore.

"It's what gives me the strength," Steve said. "It's a trade off, I guess. I get to be strong, the wolf gets one night a month to do whatever it wants. No one knew if it would work, concentrating wolf essence into a person, but it did. Science's greatest achievement, or at least that's what they tell me."

"No one has been able to replicate it since," T'Challa agreed.

"I was going to ask if Wakanda ever tried, but I guess you don't need a werewolf supersoldier when you have one already."

T'Challa paused. "Like I said, it's more complicated than just that. Becoming the Black Panther is more than simply having enhanced abilities. It's a deep, spiritual connection with the panther god, Bast. So deep that with the changing of the moon, I become one with Bast."

"Are you..." Steve stopped in his tracks. "Are you telling me you're a _werepanther_?"

"Well, I suppose I am." T'Challa laughed as they started moving again. "We don't usually phrase that way. It's different. For me, it is a gift. It's an honor to be king, to be trusted to be the Black Panther. To give back to Bast, to share my body, that is the greatest honor."

Steve shoved his hands in his pockets, suddenly unsure of what to do with them. Some nasty emotion churned in his gut, unable to quite place it, but it made him want to punch something or maybe cry. Or do both, screaming until his throat was raw and he only had exhaustion left within him. Some of it was the last remnants of the animal part of his mind still lingering. He was often short tempered for a few hours, his wolf brain unable to cope with complex human emotions.

"That's not what it's like at all for me," Steve said instead of lashing out, no matter how appealing lashing out might seem. "It's not a connection to anything. It's not an honor to become a monster."

T'Challa frowned as he gave Steve a sidelong glance. "A wolf is not a monster. A wolf is simply an animal, like any other. What prevents you from connecting to the wolf?"

"It's... there is no connection. It's something that happens to me."

"Have you tried?"

Steve opened his mouth, but no words came out. He wanted to insist that of course he'd tried, but the truth was, he never had. He'd never even considered it. The wolf has always been a means to an end and nothing else. He ignored it, except for scheduling around the full moon. He separated himself from it as far as he could push it away. No wonder it felt like such a burden.

"What would you suggest?" Steve asked.

T'Challa clapped him on the shoulder and pointed ahead. There was a village in the distance, and once Steve got his eyes on it, he could smell roasting meat on a fire. "Breakfast first."

The villagers were happy to offer breakfast to their king and his guest, and Steve thanked them several times. They sat away from the fire, and away from the others, eating sausage, eggs, and rice with freshly baked bread in relative privacy.

"I'm not suggesting a connection will be a simple thing to create," T'Challa continued, cutting open the yolk on his egg and mixing it with the rice. "It's building a relationship. When I first became the Black Panther, I thought I would simply slip into this panther body completely as myself. I have so much power in my human body, but when I transformed, I lost myself to the raw power that is Bast. I thought it would be easy and I was foolish."

Steve chewed his mouthful of rice thoughtfully. It made sense to him in a way nothing about his lycanthropy ever had before. "What changed?"

"My attitude. I had to become humble. I had to surrender myself to it in order to master it. I had to work with the panther. I could partake the heart-shaped herb and become king, but this was something greater than that. It was not only a connection to the panther, but to Bast, who helped me."

"I don't have Bast to help," Steve replied, more desperately than he meant to. "This isn't a connection to a god. Lycanthropy isn't part of my beliefs. I don't have a wolf god to call on."

"You don't have to believe in it. You only have to accept that this isn't something that happens to you. It's part of you. You have to find a place of peace between yourself and the wolf."

Steve actually felt tears burn at the corners of his eyes. The notion of _peace_ seemed so far away, but the idea of it made him hopeful. It was what he wanted, and he'd never been able to put a word to that desire. He hadn't even known how to take the first step, and here it was, right in front of him. "How?"

T'Challa smiled. "You have to build trust. You have to surrender to it, not fight it. You have to accept the wolf, even when it's the new moon."

"Is that what you did?" Steve asked.

"Not quite. It was different for me. I... well, I knew what I was getting into. If I wanted it to end, I could take it all back. We can strip away the power of the heart-shaped herb. Those aren't options for you. I went in accepting the panther side of myself. I went in looking forward to it and was shocked by it. But I learned, and so can you."

Steve smiled, too. This was so much more than making his monthly transformation easier. This was accepting it, something he'd staunchly refused to do for seventy years. He didn't even know where to begin. There was a first step somewhere, and all he had to do was take it. "Will you teach me?"

"Of course."


End file.
